Cole set down his drink and focused on the blonde. She exuded class with a snug skirt that hugged her subtle curves and a hint of cleavage peeking through the open collar of her crisp white blouse. Just the thought of twisting his fingers in that honey-blond ponytail had his palms itching. And those legs. He had always been a leg man and hers were first class all the way.
Fortunately for his newfound resolve, she didn’t look like the one-night stand type. She was completely focused on her friend and hadn’t looked his way once. Nor had she looked at anyone else in the crowded bar.
There was a time when he would have jumped at the challenge, but he was older and wiser now and had seen firsthand what kind of trouble that could bring. There were plenty of women who were looking for a night of great sex, no more and no less, so why borrow trouble by screwing with the ones who wanted more?
Shit.
Who was he kidding? If he sat there much longer, he’d have a full blown hard-on at the mere thought of slipping between those thighs. He needed to get that second drink, or a change of scenery.
Without warning, her stool swiveled and she met his stare straight on, as though she’d felt the heat of his gaze all along. There was no mistaking the burning desire that flared in her clear blue eyes while she stared at him unabashedly.
Maybe he’d been wrong about her after all. She was definitely interested, but would she act on the impulse?
Chapter Two
Hoping to calm her unsteady nerves, Olivia sucked in a deep breath as she approached the bar. Was she really doing this? And, oh God, what if she made a complete fool of herself? What if he wasn’t interested? Maybe she’d imagined the spark between them? She exhaled slowly.
Confidence in the bedroom had never been an issue for her, but she’d also never set out to seduce a complete stranger before. She was out of her league and it took all her self-restraint not to glance back at the table where Chloe was waiting for the check.
What was the big deal anyway? It wasn’t like she’d be giving up her virginity, for crying out loud. Her v-card was long gone, no thanks to the ineptitude of Danny Reid and one highly overrated prom. This was just sex. As long as she remembered how to do it, things would be fine. Probably.
When she stepped up to the heavily lacquered bar, the perky blond bartender was quick to take her order.
“What’ll you have, hon?” she asked, as she wiped down the scarred counter.
“Dirty martini,” Olivia replied without hesitation. If she was going down the path of seductress, she might as well put on her big girl panties and commit one hundred percent. She hated to admit it, but there was no escaping a childhood spent chasing pageant crowns without learning a thing or two about catching someone’s eye.
Olivia zeroed in on the TV above the bar as she waited for her drink. The Penguins and Rangers were duking it out in a particularly brutal looking third period. She didn’t have much time for sports and knew just enough about hockey to be dangerous in conversation, but it helped settle her frayed nerves nonetheless.
Nothing like a bunch of hulking, over-sexed guys slugging it out to set a girl at ease.
“How much?” she asked when the bartender returned with her liquid courage.
“No charge,” the blonde replied through suddenly tight lips. “The gentleman at the end of the bar took care of it.”
“Oh, well, thanks.” Olivia felt a slow flush creep into her cheeks as she turned and smiled at the sexy stranger. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and a wave of dark hair fell over his forehead.
Her pulse thundered.
And she’d thought he couldn’t get any hotter. So much for that. At least she had an opening now. After all, he’d just bought her a drink. It would be rude not to thank him personally, wouldn’t it?
Olivia made her way to the end of the bar. She chose the stool to his left and sat down without asking permission. He was alone and looking for company. The martini she held in her right hand was proof of that.
“Are you in the habit of buying drinks for strangers?” she asked, crossing her legs and bumping his in the process. Their knees brushed and a current of electricity flowed through her, reminding her just how long it had been since a man had touched her.
“Only the pretty ones,” he returned, with a cocky grin.
Worst. Line. Ever. Olivia burst out laughing, releasing the nervous energy that had collected in the pit of her stomach. He might be to-die-for gorgeous, but his pick up game could use some work.
“If that’s the best you’ve got, it’s no wonder you’re sitting here alone on a Friday night,” she teased, relaxing in spite of herself.
“You’re smiling, aren’t you?” he asked, raking a hand through his inky black hair and pushing the loose strand back from his forehead.
“Yeah, well, I don’t get out much,” she replied, holding his gaze.